


A Certain Stranger

by cotton_socks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (Kind of. It's more like pre-slash sorry.), First Meetings, Fluff, Grey Wind plays matchmaker, Implied Past Abuse, Implied past Theon/Ramsay, M/M, Modern AU, Modern Westeros, Panic Attacks, Robb Stark is a Gift, Strangers to Lovers, direwolves, implied past animal abuse, implied past domestic violence, past animal attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 06:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13161630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cotton_socks/pseuds/cotton_socks
Summary: THROBB SECRET SANTA - Modern Westeros AUWritten for tumblr user greyjoysea for the prompt:Robb’s dog, Grey Wind, has taken a liking to a certain stranger they always meet at the park. One day, though, the dog’s presence causes him to panic. Robb tries to help.





	A Certain Stranger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grownocean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grownocean/gifts).



> Written for tumblr user @greyjoysea (greyjoysea.tumblr.com) for Throbb Secret Santa 2017. I'm so sorry I'm posting this so late in the gift-giving period - Christmas was busier than I expected, and it didn't help that I decided to start again from scratch with just a few days left until the deadline. I really hope you like the gift, and have had a lovely Christmas. Thank you so, so much for all the wonderful prompts. I really enjoyed thinking of ideas for them and writing this piece.
> 
> I made it a modern Westeros AU rather than a straight modern AU, I hope that's okay. I needed a reason for Grey Wind to live longer than the average dog.
> 
> WARNINGS: There's implied past Thramsay, but the fic is told from Robb's point of view, so even the implications are vague, and Ramsay is never mentioned by name. It's more heavily implied that Theon has suffered an animal attack in the past. Implied past animal abuse. Panic attacks and hyperventilation; the 'treatment' given in the fic is based upon a memory from 10 years ago and a google search, so may not be anything close to realistic, sorry.

Thirty-four and chronically single, Robb gets a lot of comments about his love life. He’s become a dab hand at deflecting them throughout the years. One of his favourite evasions is to grin, reach down to pat Grey Wind’s side, and say that he’s already found his soulmate. He tends to get a laugh at that, but the thing is, he’s not even sure he’s joking.

Finding Grey is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. (Well, since Rickon’s birth, anyway.) Robb doesn’t like to think of the person he would be without Grey. He’s the best part of Robb, the physical embodiment of everything he tries to be. Faithful, loyal, true.

In the bitter days after dad’s death, with Bran in the hospital and mum sunk deep in her grief, Grey had helped out, carrying that extra bag of groceries home in his mouth, or sticking by little Rickon whenever he left the house, always between his energetic little legs and danger.

When Arya had run away from home, Grey had helped Robb and Jon track her through the fog and bring her home before mum found out.

When Sansa had been groped by her too-insistent older boyfriend, Grey had scared him away, and then, just when Robb was about to chase the guy down the street to punch the teeth out of his smug face, Grey had reminded him that there were more important things, turning to lick Sansa’s hand and give her comfort.

But as well as reminding Robb of all the good he wants to be, Grey Wind brings so much good to his life in other ways, too.

It’s because of Grey that Robb climbs his first mountain.

It’s because of Grey that Robb helps his mum rediscover her love of wild swimming.

It’s because of Grey that Robb learns the joy of sleeping out under the stars.

It’s because of Grey that Robb finds his favourite pub.

 

It’s because of Grey that Robb meets Theon.

 

~ 

 

It’s twenty years since that day when Robb, Jon and Bran had found the litter of puppies in the snow, and the dogs are beginning to slow down. They’re an ancient and hardy breed - some say they descend from the direwolves of yore - and live longer than most dogs… but the Starks are having to come to terms with the fact that their best friends aren’t going to live forever.

Robb doesn’t like to take Grey Wind so far from home, these days. Rather than romping for miles and miles out of the city,  then back again, nowadays they’ll tend to take looping walks around their neighbourhood, so whenever Grey begins to get tired, Robb can turn them towards home.

There’s a particular park just a couple of streets from Robb’s apartment where they usually start their walk. It’s a beautiful place, with sheltered walks around the edges, and criss-crossed pathways through a series of well-kept lawns in the centre. Off to one end, there’s a lido and children’s play area; at the other, there’s a formal garden and a glass-walled cafe. It almost makes Robb happier about having to live in the city.

One evening in early spring, Robb is a little surprised when Grey Wind suddenly picks up his pace and trotts on ahead. It was a short winter, comparatively, only a couple of years, but the harsh winds were hell on Grey’s old bones, and it’s rare now that he strays far from Robb’s side. But he’s always been a good, obedient dog, so Robb doesn’t worry about it.

Grey pads on ahead, and towards a bench, where a man sits, watching his approach with wary eyes.

“He’ll not hurt you,” Robb calls out, an automatic refrain by now. For all Grey is generally docile - more so than ever in his old age - his sheer size tends to scare most people.

The guy says something in return, but it is so soft, Robb can’t hear him over the distance.

Grey Wind steps up to the bench, but doesn’t go up to the man - he’s never been one for strangers - instead stopping at the opposite end of the bench to lay his head on the armrest, looking up at him with big eyes.

The man stares back.

“Hello,” Robb hears him say, as he catches up and tangles his hands in his dog’s fur.

“What’re you up to, boy? Hmm?” Robb asks, but Grey only continues to look at the stranger with liquid eyes. Robb strokes Grey’s neck affectionately. “I think he thinks you’ve got food,” he says to the man, who is looking a little less cautious now, but is sitting very still. Perhaps dogs make him nervous, Robb thinks.

“Ahh, I’m afraid I don’t have anything,” the man says, and open his palms to show Grey that they’re empty.

Grey Wind tilts his head, looking puzzled and hopeful.

After all these years, Robb still finds him absolutely adorable. He bends and presses his face into Grey’s soft forehead, gives his neck a few firm strokes.

“Come on, you,” he says, giving him one last caress, and stepping back, “let’s leave the nice gentleman alone now.”

The man chuckles at that, and smiles a bit, but Grey looks a little saddened.

After a moment, Robb takes a backwards step down the path, still watching his unusually disobedient dog. “Grey Wind,” he says, and takes another step. Grey lifts his head from the bench, but doesn’t move yet, and doesn’t stop staring at the stranger with his big eyes. Robb wonders vaguely what the man thinks of all this. He hopes it hasn’t spoiled his evening in any way. He really doesn’t seem quite comfortable.

“That’s enough, come on,” Robb says, and turns his back to start walking down the path.

When he glances back, Grey is padding after him slowly.

 

~

 

Robb forgets all about it until a few days later.

“We meet again,” the stranger says, as Grey comes to rest his head on the armrest of the bench for a second time.

“Hi,” Robb says apologetically, “Sorry about this.”

“It’s okay,” the man replies, but his posture is stiff again.  He looks at Grey Wind, who gazes back. “He’s very well-behaved.”

Robb can’t help smiling, pleased. “Yeah, he may be big, but he’s a softie, really.” He drops into a crouch by Grey’s side and scrubs his hands through his fur. “You’ve got expectations to live up to now,” he says warmly, “be a good boy, and come along.”

After an initial hesitation, Grey comes along.

 

~

 

“I really am sorry about all of this,” Robb says.

It’s the third time this has happened, but the motifying thing is that the man isn’t even sat on the same bench this time. He’s in an entirely different part of the park, out on the edge of an expansive lawn, and what if he moved in an attempt to get away from this annoying dog that won’t seem to leave him alone?

“I don’t mind so much,” the man replies, and then reaches a tentative hand towards Grey.

Grey perks up immediately, raising his nose to sniff at the fingers and bump his nose against them.

Robb realises a few things then, with rising concern: first, that the man is missing a few fingers; second, that those that remain are worryingly slender; third - and worst - that they are shaking as he holds them out towards Grey.

And yet, the man is smiling a little as he gazes at Robb’s dog, moving his hand sidewards to lay his palm against his forehead and smooth his fur back in long, slow strokes. “There you go,” he says, “there you go. You like that, don’t you?”

Grey does, Robb sees: he’s wagging his tail and grinning all over his little doggy face.

Robb feels a little bit odd about it, if he’s honest. It’s entirely uncharacteristic behaviour for Grey. With a couple of notable exceptions - Ygritte and Gendry, his siblings’ partners - Grey doesn’t really warm to new people well. He certainly doesn’t imprint on a stranger, hunt them down, and stare at them with adoring eyes until they have no choice but to pet him.

“What’s his name?” The man asks, his voice sounding more open that it has at any point in their awkward acquaintance so far.

“Grey Wind,” Robb supplies, and then when the man laughs, adds hastily, “I was fourteen.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Grey Wind’s a great name,” the man says, suddenly amused, “A bit untraditional for a dog, but I like it all the more for that.”

He looks up, grinning, and Robb’s heart skips a beat.

He’s gorgeous. So gorgeous, Robb’s not sure how he missed it before. Lean body, sleek dark hair, cheekbones to die for and eyes like the sea. And gods, that _smile_.

Robb forces himself to breathe again and smile back.

“My sister’s got a boat called _Black Wind,_ ” the man continues, causing Robb to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “Let me guess: he’s really fast?”

“He used to be,” Robb replies, “He’s getting on a bit now.”

“At least he’s actually grey.”

The guy’s amusement is infectious, and Robb feels his own smile turning more genuine, spreading across his face. “What colour’s your sister’s boat?” He asks.

“Brown.”

They both laugh.

Grey Wind gives a soft, happy bark, drawing the guy’s attention back to him. He gives him another pat on the head and withdraws his hand, which is suddenly trembling harder than before.

“I’ll let you get on your way,” the man says, trying for the same levity as before, but it just comes out stiff.

Robb misses that smile instantly, wonders what’s wrong, if _he_ did something to cause the sudden change of mood, if there’s anything he can do to fix it… then he scolds himself for being silly. This man doesn’t need him prying into his business. Robb’s sure he’ll just be happier if he lets him get back to enjoying his evening.

“Come on, Grey Wind,” he says, and Grey pads to his side immediately, apparently satisfied that he got the attention he was looking for.

He’s starts leading Grey away, but something about the look of unease on the man’s face makes him turn back. “It was nice to see you again,” he says.

The smile he gets in return is a ghost of his former grin, but still beautiful. “Yeah,” the man says, “You too.”

 

~

 

Robb loses track of how often they meet him, after that.

Within weeks, Robb can tell within a few steps of getting into the park whether the man is there that day or not: if they get through the gate and begin to walk down whatever route Robb picks, he’s not there; if Grey begins to trot off the chosen path, he’s caught the scent and is on his way to see his new friend.

The man still gets wary around Grey sometimes, and Robb’s sure dogs - the big ones, at least - make him nervous, but he’s also warming to him, getting increasingly more affectionate as the months slip by. It’s got to the point now where Grey will just run up to the man and throw himself at his feet, ready to be fussed over.

Robb’s own relationship with the man doesn’t progress in quite such a linear manner. They talk, but mostly just about Grey, or the park, or the weather. Sometimes it’s easy, they laugh together and Robb almost thinks that they could be friends. Other times, the man seems really discomforted by his presence, and will have whole conversations with Robb where he won’t look at him at all, averts his eyes from the space he occupies like he’s just a threatening mass, rather than a person. He tries to stand further back on those days, not crowd him so much, wonders what happened to this man in the past, and… But it’s none of Robb’s business, and he doubts he’d be able to help anyway.

One evening, as the days are lengthening out towards summer, Robb finds himself turning from the path and following Grey as his dog makes a beeline across the lawn, towards wherever the man has chosen to settle down today. He’s not on one of the benches for a change; he’s laid out on his back on the grass, eyes closed.

Gods, he really is a handsome man, Robb thinks, as he and Grey Wind draw nearer, watching the way he’s smiling as he’s bathed in the golden light of the evening sun.

Grey picks up the pace in the last few feet, breaking into a run and barking, throwing himself onto the man’s midsection enthusiastically and licking at his chin.

The effect is instantaneous, and horrifying.

“Please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me, please -”

Robb grabs Grey by the scruff of his neck and pulls him off the man, who scrambles immediately to his feet and stumbles into a tree, where he leans like a puppet with his strings cut, staring at Grey Wind, who has Robb’s arms tight around him.

“Gods,” he begins to say then, bringing a hand up to his chest and pressing the other over his face, “gods…”

Robb is struggling to keep hold of Grey, who is whimpering in his embrace, knowing his friend is in distress, but unable to comprehend that trying to comfort him will only make it worse. “Calm down,” Robb says, “I need you to calm down.”

Grey Wind does stop struggling at that, and lowers his head to the ground. He continues to whimper piteously, but he’s okay; Robb can tell that he’s not hurt from the bit of manhandling, just upset and confused.

The man, on the other hand… he’s leaning back into the tree, clasping at his chest. His eyes are wide and fearful, and he’s hyperventilating.

“Stay!” Robb tells Grey in a tone he knows won’t be disobeyed, then rises to his feet and approaches the man carefully.

Bran used to get panic attacks sometimes, when he felt trapped in his own body, but it was years ago, and Robb is sure it probably affects people in different ways anyway. Bran used to like being held by his family while he was trying to pull himself back together. Robb has an urge to reach out and take the man’s hand, but he quells it. Somehow, he’s certain that would be the worst thing he could do at the moment.

He really has no idea how to help this man. The best he can do is try.

“I’m going to need you to breathe, okay?” He says in a soft voice, “It’s me - it’s Robb.” He barely refrains from biting his tongue. What a stupid thing to say. Like that’s going to ground him or calm him, he doesn’t even know his name! “I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me? Breathe out…”

The man seems to register what he’s saying and that he’s trying to help, because he does as Robb suggests and breathes out, but then he breathes straight back in again and almost chokes on it. He resumes drawing breath quickly, panic rattling in every inhalation.

“Okay, I want you to put your hands on your diaphram,” Robb says, remembering an exercise Bran used to do. “And I want you to breathe out slowly. And then I want you to breathe in as slowly as you can, and feel as it pushes your stomach out.” The man is struggling to follow the instructions, his breath hitching mid-way through, but he’s making an obvious effort to take the breath slowly. “When you’ve filled your lungs up, hold it there for a few seconds - that’s it - now breathe out again for me, slow, that's it, feel your diaphragm contract... and when you’re ready taken another long breath in.”

Robb wants to step forwards and put his hand’s over the man’s, feel his chest move as he breathes, but he holds himself back, and just watches as he gains back control.

Eventually, the man lifts a shaky hand from his diaphragm to press it to his forehead, and sinks carefully down to the ground to lean against the tree.

From behind Robb, Grey Wind gives a questioning little whimper, but Robb motions for him to stay put. He moves to crouch cautiously beside the man.

He knows it’s stupid to ask if the man’s alright. He's ashen and shaky. “Do you need anything?” he asks instead. He pulls a bottle of water out of his bag. “Do you want a drink? Do you need me to call anyone?”

The man shakes his head weakly. “No. Thank you.” He says. He’s covering his face now, as though ashamed.

“I’m so sorry,” Robb says. “Grey didn’t mean to alarm you. He’d never harm you. He’s not that kind of dog.”

“Every dog’s that kind of dog, if they’re treated badly enough,” the man mumbles. Then he moves his hands from his face to the back of his neck, tugs on his hair and looks at Robb earnestly - or, well, just to the left of him, but he’s trying. “Sorry,” he says. “I can see you treat Grey Wind well. He’s a good dog. It’s just - I’ve had some bad experiences before with dogs.”

Robb nods, suspicions confirmed. “Should I try to keep Grey away from you in future?” He asks, feeling sad about it. It’s because he knows how miserable and confused Grey will be about being kept away, he tries to reason. But… well, perhaps if he’s honest with himself, he can admit that he will miss seeing this intriguing, beautiful stranger too.

But the man is shaking his head. “No,” he says. “It was the shock of him coming up to me when I wasn’t expecting it that was the problem, not being near him. I don’t think avoiding dogs for the rest of my life is going to help me. It will just make it worse. I’m scared of dogs, but I do _like_ them. I always liked them before.” He sounds almost defiant - against what, Robb doesn’t know. Then his voice softens, and he looks behind Robb to where Grey is still obediently sat watching them, and adds, “And I like Grey Wind especially.”

Robb can’t help beaming at that. Grey will be pleased as well. For whatever reason, he’s taken a liking to this man, and if -

“I’ve had an idea,” Robbs says. Then he flushes under the man’s questioning gaze. Maybe he should think this through a little more first, but… “Would you like to join Grey and I on our walks sometimes? You can spend some time with him, get used to being around him, and I’ll always be there to stop him or take him away if he gets a bit too much for you to handle.”

The man continues to stare at him, assessing, and Robb’s sure his face must be bright red by now. He’s about to force a laugh and call the idea silly when suddenly the man smiles. “Yeah, alright,” he says.

“Alright?” Robb asks, feeling himself smiling involuntarily back.

“Alright.” The man’s got that grin on again, and _gods_ , he’s beautiful.

“So, um,” Robb feels flustered, like a schoolboy, but presses on, “do you want to start tomorrow? We could meet at the eastern gate at… does half-six work for you?”

“Half-six is fine.” The man replies. He holds his hand out in Grey’s direction then, cautiously but hopefully. “Do you hear that, boy?” Grey glances briefly at Robb, then shuffles forwards on his belly to nudge his head against the man’s outstretched palm. “We’re going to be seeing some more of each other.” Grey thumps his tail against the ground joyously.

Robb watches the two of them, smiling. The man still looks a little shaken, but he seems to be taking comfort in Grey’s affection, in the nuzzling nose and warmth of his fur.

Robb shifts a little, moves from his awkward crouch to settle in the grass by Grey Wind’s other side. He puts both hands on his dog’s body and starts stroking his fur firmly, to complement the gentle caresses the other man is bestowing on Grey’s face and ears.

“Robb,” the man says then, and Robb glances up to find him looking at him over Grey Wind’s head, one corner of his mouth tilted up into a smirk and an amused light in his eye.

“Yes?” Robb asks.

The man’s smile quirks higher. “Your name’s Robb,” the man says.

“Oh.” Robb vaguely recalls mentioning that earlier, but he's distracted from the memory as the man’s smirk stretches into that knock-out grin of his. Robb’s suddenly very aware of how hard his heart in beating in his chest. “Yes.”

He hopes the man will say his name again; he has such a wonderful voice, rich like chocolate, and somehow he makes Robb’s name sound like something extraordinary, something to be cherished.

Instead, what the man says is: “Theon. Nice to meet you.”

It takes a moment longer than it probably should to register what the man is telling him - what _Theon_ is telling him.

“Nice to meet you too,” Robb says, “Theon.” The name is sweet on his tongue.

Theon smiles, and it's almost shy. “It looks like we’re going to be seeing more of each other, too."

“Yes,” Robb agrees, and he's a little bit breathless.

Theon sounds much the same as he responds, “Good.”

Robb’s not sure exactly when their hands found each other in Grey Wind’s fur, but he's in no hurry to let go.

 

~

**Author's Note:**

> If there's one thing I've learnt from this fic, it's to get your characters to learn each other's names early on in the acquaintance. If I have to type 'the man' again I might cry.
> 
> A lot of the credit for this fic obviously goes to tumblr user @greyjoysea for giving me such a wonderful prompt.
> 
> Thanks also to Damien (tumblr user @robb-greyjoy) for organising the Throbb Secret Santa.


End file.
